Sent to the Centaur Liason
by Boogalee99
Summary: Being sent to Centaur Liason is a death sentence for anyone in the Ministry. So what happens when one Hermione Granger is sent there? And how will she react to her new assignment?


**Sent to the Centaur Liason**

**A Harry Potter FanFiction**

**Hey guys! Here's another entry for my competition thingy. If any of my normal readers are reading tyis, than I'm sorry that I haven't updated anything lately. I started high school, so I've been really busy. Anyways, my prompts are:**

**Write about the goblin/Centaur liason office in the Ministry.**

**8\. **"**Stories of imagination tend to upset those without one." Terry Pratchet**

**13\. A Divine Image by William Blake**

**14\. "I lie to myself all the time. But I never believe me." SE Hinton, the Outsiders**

**So, here you go!**

Sent to the Centaur Liason

In the Ministry of Magic, there is one office that spells doom for whoever is assigned to it.

The Centaur Liason.

The office was meant for the creatures to have a voice in Ministry matters. They would have been able to lodge complaints, ask clarifying questions, and have a sliver of representation. But centaurs are proud creatures. They would never go to humans for help.

So the office has never been used.

At the Ministry, it is a death sentence to get sent there. You might as well be fired immediately, because if not then, you will be jobless in a month.

Possibly less.

Which is why Hermione Granger was currently fretting her head off as she paced to her new office.

Knocking, and hearing no response, she pushed open the old wooden door and felr her heart sink. Her new office was smaller than a broom closet and, if possible, even mustier and darker. There was one tiny chair with half a leg snapped off, and a small table no larger than a stool. She set down her small box of stuff and looked around miserably. _It would have been kinder to send me to Azkaban,_ she thought.

Flicking her elegant wand, Hermione lit her office and began the long work of cleaning every square inch of it. _I swear, it's like no one has ever stepped foot in here before._ As Hermione was pondering where to put all of her supplies, as she didn't even have a filing cabinet, however, a knock sounded on the door. Before she could answer, a small, frail old man with a limp gray comb-over bustled in. In one step he was right next to Hermione and had grabbed her hand in one of his own.

"Pleasure to meet you, Mistress Granger!" he exclaimed, looking oddly pleased with himself. Hermione didn't know whether to yank her hand back and disapparate, cower in the corner, or stand there and take it. He decision was nade for her, though. The small man through his arms around her and squeezed her in a bone crushing hug.

"Ack!" Hermione literally could not form the words to speak. She didn't have enough oxygen in her, and black spots began to dance before her eyes.

"Set the poor girl down, Ed," a warm, deep voice said from somewhere beside her. Its oddly musical tones rung with amusement. "You're strangling her to death."

"Right! Sorry, sorry!" The old man, apparently Ed, set her down and began brushing her off. "My apologies, Miss Granger!"

Gasping, Hermione blinked to clear her vision. Massaging her ribcage, she managed to say, "It's quite alright. I take it you're Edward Paite?" Hermione was finding it hard to believe that this old man could be her new department head.

The man beamed at her, his comb-over bobbing.

"Yes sirree! Edward Paite, Head of the Centaur Liason, at your service, mademoiselle!" He grabbed her hand and kissed the back of it. Again, Hermione resisted the urge to flee.

The musical voice spoke up again. "Ed, you're scaring the girl." A tall man pushed his way past Ed and held his hand out to me. "Aaron Dyer. You are Hermione Granger." It wasn't exactly a question, but Hermione felt the need to nod. She was again struck speechless, but for another reason entirely.

Put plainly, Aaron Dyer had the body of a Greek god.

His golden skin gleamed mystically in the blue light of her wand, and his brown hair was just long enough to fall into his eyes. _Those eyes..._ They were brilliant, seeming to shift between blue, green and grey, and yet they always had a ring of gold around the pupil. They were mesmerizing.

Aaron was wearing only a white dress shirt, sleeves rolles up to his elbows, a tie in an abstract pattern. He had obviously left his robe in his office, and Hermione found herself grateful for it. Goodness, those muscles... Shakomg herself out of her trance, Hermione shook his proffered hand. She gave him a rueful smile. "Yes. Newly transferred to Centaur Liason. "

He returned her smile, and she felt her heart skip a beat. "Same here."

Ed grinned up at us. "Oh, we are all going to be the best of friends! Follow me! Come, come!" He bounded out of the office. Hermione and Aaron exchanged confused glances, and, when Aaron shrugged, they followed him out of the office.

Ed was suprisingly light on his feet, and the two new tranfers had to huslte to keep up with him. "Man," Aaron huffed from beside Hermione. "That man is very spritely."

Hermione could only nod.

At length, the odd group stopped in front of an old, bare mahogany door, with Aaron panting slightly and Hermione and Ed huffing their hearts out. When Hermione had recovered at least part of the way, Ed knocked and pushsd the door open gently, motioninf Hermione and Aaron inside. Hermione was surprised to see what awaited her, to say the least.

Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister of Magic, sat at a dusty old desk, looking distinctly uncomfortable. Upon seeing Hermione, he hopped up and pulled her into a quick one-armed hug with his left arm, and reached out to shake Aaron's hand. "Ah! Miss Granger, Mr. Dyer! I do apologize for this."

Before Hermione could ask why he was apologizing, Kingsley abruptly turned on the spot, taking both her and Aaron to wherever he had apparated.

The next thing Hermione knew, she was on her knees in a forest, the musty smell of decaying leaves clogging her nose. Somewhere to her right, she heard quick footsteps, followed by the sound of someone heaving their guts out.

Hermione pushed herself to her feet, swaying slightly as dark spots momentarily took over her vision. A strong arm wrapped itself around her shoulder, holding her steady. Once her vision cleared, she had just enough time to register that it was Aaron holding her before she stepped away, blushing. At the sound of soft footsteps, they both turned to see Kingsley returning from wherever he had been re-tasting his breakfast. "Sorry. Ever since the war, I've had trouble apparating. I think it's because of a curse that was a parting gift from Lucius Malfoy. "

Beside her, Hermione felt Aaron flinch. _I wonder why..._

"Where are we?" Aaron demanded.

Kingsley had the decency to look slightly ashamed. He reached back and scratched his neck. "Well... This is your new assignment."

Hermione gasped. "What?"

Wordlessly, the Minister gestured to something behind the two tranfers. Whirling around, they stood shocked as a building loomed up before them.

The large building looked like one of the log lodges that Hermione had seen on her ski trips. Its massive dark beams towered towards the top of the trees, with breaks here and there for windows. A small sign hung by the door read:

BRITISH MINISTRY OF MAGIC

CENTAUR LIASON

Turning back to Kingsley, Hermione gave him her best death glare. "What is this?" Kingsley flinched at the carefully controlled anger in her voice.

"This is your new assignment," he repeated. "You two are going to be stationed here for the next year." Beside her, Hermione felt Aaron go as rigid as a board.

"Why?" he nearly whispered.

Kingsley wouldn't meet their gaze. "The cenaturs have been having... Issues lately."

The words sent chills down Hermione's spine. "What kind of _issues?"_

Kingsley shifted, uncomfortable. Reaching into his cloak, he pulled out two manilla envelopes and handed one each to Aaron and Hermione. "These will explain everything." Hermione and Aaron exchanged a confused glance,but a loud pop startled them.

"You have got to be kidding me," Aaron said, staring at the spot where Kingsley had apparated away.

"Tell me this isn't happening," Hermione responded.

Aaron had the nerve to give her a cheeky grin. "I could. I've been trying to tell myslef that this is a dream, but apparently I'm not a very good liar. I can't even convince myself."

"Same problem here." Without further ado, Hermione opened up her envelope and began to read.

**MINISTRY OF MAGIC**

**CONGRATULATIONS!**

**You have bren selected to represent your fellow wizards in this time of crisis. The centaurs are in need of help, and you have been chosen as one of the best and brightest.**

**The other best and brightest will be your roommate, coincidentally. *See 2nd paragraph down for more details***

**Something has been targeting the Centaur young. They are being killed, severely injured, and, in some cases, have just disappeared all together. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to investigate these happenings and determine the cause. Should you discover the cause, you are to do whatever is necessary to put a stop to it. That was a Muggle reference. Did you get it? Probably not. **

**Anyways, you are assigned to this mission with one other person. You are to take on disguises. Oh, you are just gonna love this... You have to pretend to be... HUSBAND AND WIFE! Heh, how do you like that? It is critical for your mission.**

At this, Hermione groaned out loud. Aaron glanced over at her. "Let me guess. Second paragraph down?" Hermione could only nod.

He gave her a shaky grin. "You know, it's not that bad..."

"How so?" Hermione's voice sounded cold, even to her.

His grin disappeared. "Are you upset about the fact that you have to pretend to be with me, or tbe lying bit."

"Yes."

Aaron winced. "Ouch. Don't think of it as lying, think of it as... Telling a story."

"Big difference between telling a story and living it."

Aaron gave a small smile. "Well, you know what they say..."

Hermione glared at him. "What do they say?"

"Lying only upsets those with no imagination."

Rolling her eyes, Hermione returned to her reading.

**The centaurs are very... Stereotypical of humans. They will naturally be suspicious of two coming along. ****Cruelty has a Human Heart And Jealousy a Human Face and all that. I forgot who wrote that...what was it called...**

**Anways, centaurs are extremely traditional, if not medieval. They leave only the most menial tasks to the women. I am sorry, Miss, but you will have to strive to appear submissive.**

**Attached is a more detailed set of instructions. Have fun!**

**Oh, and one more thing. You are now called Mr. and Mrs. Peter and Ella Markor. You have been married for three years, and enjoy ice cream sundays.**

**Sincerely, **

**Edward Paite**

Hermione looked up from her letter to find Aaron studying her. "Still trying to convince yourself this isn't happening?" he asked.

"Yes. You?"

"Yeah. Is it working?"

"No."

"Me neither."

They were silent for a moment, but then Aaron startled her by giving her a sudden grin. "Ready for this, _Mrs. Markor?"_

Hermione groaned.

This was going to be a long year.

**Goodness, that was garbage. Oh well, sorry Tuts. Anyways, I was actually thinking of continuing this. Tell me what you think in a review please!**

**Love y'all!**

**~Boogalee**


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